**&*- 


No.  102, 


PEACE  IN  BELIEVING. ! 


BY 


Rey.   C.   MANLY, 

TUSKALOOSA,   ALA. 


•■> 


1  8  G  3  . 


t/l 


''hM 


1 


IE  IN  BELIEVING 


LETTER    1. 

September  17th,  1S43.1 . 
Dead  C\ — A  few  oavs  ago  I  received  a  lei: or  from  5, 
N.  ,  He  had  found  an  opportunity  by  some  friends  t.v  write-. 
But  such  a  letter  as  it  was!  So  efSutknis,. every  expres- 
sion so  care.fiHy  guarded,  lest  it  should  fall  into  the  wrong 
Lands,  and  his  ■  sen  turnouts  betrayed.)      It  mi  terrible 

to  him  tu  Kve  among  the  avowed  enemies  of  the"  only 
country  be  will    ever  elaiui   ad   ho  those  bv 

whom  he  -is  surroupdffl1  :  Ipving,  jvith  all  the  ardor- of  a 
■passionate  nature,  the  South;  and  ret -.obliged  to  hear,  is 
abused  nnd  know  thai  he  cannot  defend  it.  I  pity  him  with 
ul!  my  -Iti-ait. 

But  this  is  the  least  of  bis  troubles.  There  is  one  shad- 
ow which hajig«%over  his  life  blacker,- more  '  terrih]e  trran 
this;  and  that,  is  the  fate  of  poor  II.  fie  sav*.  he  has 
prayed  ea rnesrly for  deoi h,  or  for  strength  lo  h  -ar  this  trial  ; 
and  yet  writes,  "  lie  is    a  praycr-onsu  \  I,  and  yet 

here  I  am  still,  with  no  strength,  -but  rather  piea'.ei  weak- 
ness."    I  wish  I  could    say  any  thing'  to  comfort,    him  • 


i  eouia    say  any 

PC 4218 


but  what  can  I  say,  when— I  kno"V  what  I  am  going  to  ?ay 
will  shock  you,  but  it  is  sadly  true — when*,  so  otten  the  same 
conviction  has  forced  itself  on  my  mind.  1  know  the  Bible 
speaks  of  a  prayer-hearing  God  ;  but  that  God  i  haw*  never, 
then,  truly  found.  He  may  be  to  to  (titters,  but  to  me  he  has 
never  been  so.  I  have  prayed,  often  earnestly,  and  I  -thought, 
with  faith,  (for  I  believed  those  prayers  would  be  answered), 
but  I  have  prayed  vainly.  You  tell  me  to  pray  for  resignation  : 
how  can  I,  when  now  1  know  I  pray  without  faith,  without  hope 
$f any  effect? 

lam  ashamed  to  make  this  confession — and  would  not  if  I 
did  not  hope  that  you  might  be  able  to  tell  me  where  the  fault 
is,  and  point  me  some*  way  of  relief.-  I  am  aU  wrong — J* 
know  I  am  ;  and  yet  I  do  so  long  to  b.t  very  good  !  Some- 
times, that  is;  but  some  times  I .  fear  I  become  despairingly 
indifferent,  thinking  it  little-use  to  try  There  now  !  I  have 
said  a  great  deal  more  thau  I  intended.  Hitherto  I  have  kept 
all  this  to  myself,  and  perhaps  ought  to  have  continued  to  do 
so.  Only,  when  I  read  E.'s  letter  I  longed  to  know  something 
to  sa\  to  him,  and  yet  I  felt  I  had  nothing  to  offer. 

I  depart  from  S.  iibout  October  1st. 

Your  friend,  A. 


LETTER    2 . 

Sept.  30th  lSb'i. 

"Dear  A. — Sickness  has  prevented  my  replying  to  your  last 
till  now.  But  this  wjji  intercept  you  in  your  journey,  and  may 
relieve  for  a  few  moments,  the  tedium  of  the  road  you  will  have 
to  'ravel. 

I  am  glad  you  have  confided  in  me  enough  to  let  me  know 
youp  state  of  mind  ;  even  though  I  may  be  sihle  to  be  of  very 
liu-le  service  to  you.  When  1  was  .tDO  unwell  to  write,  I 
thought  of  you  again  and  again,  and  feared  it  would  be  long 
before  I  could  write  to -you.  What  you  say  of  yourself  does 
k>t -h.uk  -*~i  vcu  su^pyosd  ii  JouJsL     Pe*iia$*ffout  &*    d* 


experience  I  have  myself  had  in  a  similar  way,  It  would  have 
hud  some  such  effect.  But  I  am  not  ;i  stranger  to  precisely  the 
same  distressing  state  that  youdescribe  as  your  own.  Do  not, 
therefore,  conclude  that  your  case  is  so  pecnliar  ns  that  there 
has  never  been  one  like  it.  You  see,  tor  yourself  that  there  is 
sit  'least  (.me  other  in  a  similar  condition,  vihom  you  would  glad- 
ly have  eomibrtcu.  I  wish  you  had  tried  it-  itwoujd  hav'e  done 
you  good.  Indeed,  I  hopu  you  did  try.  It  certamly  could  do 
no  harm. 

1  doub*  not,  if  the  history  of  every  Christian's  heart  could  be 
placed  before  our  eyes,  there  would"  he  -but  few  who  have  not, 
at  some  period  of  (heir  lives,  been  made  to  feel  as  though  God 
were  <l  angry  against  their  prayer,  ;  (Ps.  80  :  4),  aild  who  have, 
.with  the  Psalmist,  cried  out  in  bitterness  oi  soul,  "  Wijl  the 
Lord  east  oil' forever?  .  And  will  He  be  favorable  ho  more  7 — 
Is  His  mercy  clean  gone  forever  /  Doth  Hi-;  promise' fail  fore*Yj 
er  more  ?  Hath  lie  in  anger  shut,  up  His  tender  mercies  ?  *r — 
(Ps-  77  :  V — 9)  Such  an  experience  is  not  a  necessary  -part 
of  a  Christian's  life,— but  it  is  net  an  uncommon  one,  ii  tie 
truth  were  known.  Sometimes  cjoubt'ess,  this  i*  the  direct  ef- 
fect of  some  temptation  which  Sa{an  is  allowed  to  briag  to  bear 
upon  the  soul  ;  mid  no  special  cause,  other  than  lni»;cau%be  as- 
signed for  it.  Of  Mich  a  one  our  Saviour's  language  to*  Peter 
may  bo  used  ;  "Satan  ha.tli  desired  to  have  vou,  that  he  may 
sift  you  as  wheat"— but  it  m  v  al.«o  b.e  added,  astru*  that  Je- 
sus s^jjj,  "  I  have  prayed  for-  thee,  Wat  Ihi/  faith  fail  nof."— 
Most  generally,  however,  it  is  the  consequence,  of 'some  sin  in- 
dulged, in  some  way  ;  if  not  some  positive  transgression,' k  i.s 
some  gross  negleet— as  prayerlesshess,  indifference  to  duty;  and" 
to  actice  service  of  God,  some  idol  that  dethrones  God  and 
grieves  the  Holy- Spirit.  It  is  a  fafe  described  in  Scripture  a^ 
'backsliding  in  heart  ;"  antl  God  makes  the  sin  punish  itse'< 
Jer.  2  :   13—19.     _  .  •  ' 

Sometimes  these  feelings  come  in  connection  with  some  great 
distre-s  or  calamity  that  seems  moro,  bitter  thlfti  death  ;  'and. 
God  allows  it  to  be  so,  in  order  to  develop  the  -graces  of  His 
children  and  lead  them  to  trust  implteiily  in  Him.  Often,  be- 
cause He  does  not  grant  them  precisely  'what  they  wish,  thev 
conclude  that  He  does  not  hear  them  at  all.  Perhaps  what 
they  wish  would  be  an  injury  to  them.  Often  they  think  Ho 
does  not  answer  them,  because  He  daes   not  «ir«   them    Iheir 

P.T4218 


petitions  in  precisel  the  way  they  expect  and  in  the  degree 
Oiey  look  for.  That  is  evidently  E.'s  case,  o  God  ^as  indeed 
sorely  afflicted  him.  He  rajs  he.  prays  for  strength,  but  gets 
Veaker  day  by  clay.  Was  not  that  precisely  Paul's  experience  ? 
(See.  2  Gor.  12:  1-- — 10)  reproduced  a  thousand  times  under 
similar  circumstances?  '•  As  ihy  days  (not  more),  so  shall  thy 
strength  be."  God  purposely  brings  us  low  and  makes  us  feel 
our  weakness  to  be  absolute  and  our  strength  to  he  nothing,  that 
we  may  learn  to  trust  and  loan  upon  Him.  "  When  I  am 
weak,  then  am  I  strong."  He  wi.l  yet  learn  the  meaning  bf  2 
Cor.  4:  8—10  as  he  has  never  before  seen  it.  Light  will  arise 
out  of  his  darkness. 

But  the  question  arises,  wliat  must  one  who  is' in  suck  a  state 
do?  I  cannot  answer  the  question  better  than  it  is  done  in  the 
Bible  .  see  Isa.  50  :  10.  "  Who  is  among  you  that  feareih  the 
Lord,  that  obeyeth  the  voice  of  H'is  servant,  that  walketh  in 
darkness  and  hath  no  light  ?  Let  him  trust  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord,  and  stag  upon  his 'God."  The  whole  context  is  instruc- 
tive. Of  course,  all  known  sin  must  be  abandoned — thai  is  in- 
dispensable. An  earnest  active  devotion  to  some  labor  for 
Christ  is  often  necessary  to  dispel  the  darkness.  h\  trying  to 
lead  others  to  Him  we  ourselves  find  the  Way. 

I  know  that  it  is*)ften  the  Case  that  one  in  such  a  condition 
(feeling  that  every  service  is  imperlectly^not  to  *ay.  sinfully, 
performed),  is  tempted  to  give  up  prayer  altogether  and  to 
abandon  the  reading  of  the  Bible,  with  H.any  other  duties. — 
Such  a.  t.'ir.ptaiion  should  be  steadfastly  resisted.  It  is  our 
duty  to  pray,  whether  we  feel  like  it  or  not.  And  the  devil  can 
wish  for  nothing,  more  than  to  keep  a  child  of  God  from  prayer. 
As  long  as  he  can  <lo  that,  he  is  satisfied.  Now,  dear  A.,  re- 
member his  wiles  -he  wi  1  take  every  method  to  keep  you  from 
your  Saviour— he  will  sift  you  as  wheat;  but  remember,  also, 
to  take  "  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  "  and  to  use  it  in  all  your  con- 
flicts with  him.  I  feci  assured  tint  such  is  your  present  condi- 
tion ;  and  while  I  deeply  sympathize  with  you  in  your  spiritual 
struggles,  I  am  not  sorry  that  you  are  enduring  them  ;  tor  I 
confidently  believe  that  they  will  result  in  your  deeper  and  more 
thorough  ;  cquaintance  with  the  power  and  grace  of  Christ,  and 
that  you  will  yet  bless  God  for  tjhem.  The  contest  may  be  long, 
and  as  with  a  sword  in  your  bones  the  cruel  -taunt  may  be  sug- 
gested to  you  and  flung  at  yuu,  "  Where  is  thy  God?  "  and  re- 


pealed  efforts  to  take  to  God  a  soul  '-'cast down  "  may  seem  to 
result  for  a  long  time  in  only  making  the  load  heavier  ;  but 
never,  while  your  soul  pnnts  after  God  as  -you  now  say  your- 
self that  it  does,  never  will  He  leave  you  ntlerly,  bul  He  "will 
command  His  loving  kindness  in  the  day  time,  and  the -night 
His  song  will  be  wiih  you  and  your  prayer  to  the  God  of  your 
life,"  whom  you  will  realize  as  your  ova  God — the  health  of 
your  countenance.     (See  1-s.  43  ) 

I  know  that  sometimes  the  heart  is  \  lroost  crushed  by  the 
bltnding  doubt-often  suggested  at  such  a  time  ;  viz.  Am  I  in- 
deed, a  child  of  God,  at  all;  have  I  ever  experienced  His  grace, 
have  I  not  been  deceived  all  along?  I  know  hie  awfu-l  rowtft 
of  such  a  doubt.  I  will  hot  attempt  to  answer  that  question 
for  you — if  indeed  it  has  presented  itself  to  you — further  than 
lo  say,  that  1  cannot  conceive  of  a  "  longing  to  be  good  "  pro^ 
ceeding  from  an  unrenewed  heart  or  from  the  suggestion  of 
Satan.  But,  b"e  that  as  it  may,  it  still  remains  true,  and  »o 
artifice  of  the  devil  can  make  it  otherwise,  t' at  whosoever 
cometh  to  Jesus  shall  in  no  wise  be  cast  out — and  that  lie  is 
able  to  save  unto  th.e  uttermost,  all  that  come  to  God  by  Him. 
Avail  yourself  of  tne  "true  Hayings  of  God  " — be  not  afraid  ^to 
know  the  whole  truth  as  to  your  condition  ;  you  can  never  get 
beyond  "  the  utter  moat'1'' — you  cau  never  be  beyond  the  power  of 
His  grace. 

But,  in  truth,  do  you  not  love  Christ  1  Would  you  not,  do 
you  not  choose  Him;  and  would  you  not  account  the  manifest 
tation  of  His  presence  and  love  as  the  greatest  blessing  you 
could  now  receive?  Is  there  anything  you  would  prefer  to 
Him?  I  think  I  know  what  the  answer  of  your  heart  is:  it  is 
Peter's — "  Lord,  thou  knowest  all  things,-  thou  knowest  I  love 
thee.11  A- magnet  will  discover  the  existence  of  particles  of 
sleel  in  u  pile  of  du"st,that  a  microscope  will  not  detect.  So,  if 
there  is  grace  in  the  heart  at  all,  it  will  bo  made  known  by 
♦  he  real  views  one  has  of  Christ,  rather  than  by  a  search,  be  it 
ever  so  minute,  into  our  motives  and  feelings,  our  frames  and 
states  of  mind. 

The  path  by  which  God  brings  back  His  people  to  Him  is  of- 
ten a  dark  and  rugged  one — it  leads  through  the  -valley  of  Hu~ 
initiation,  as  Bunyun  calls  it.     Be  it  so— 7anvtiiing.—  if  we  may  ' 
but   be  brought  back  to  Rim.     The  very  tribulations*  we  suffer 
may  tend  to  keep  us  there,  to  stray  no  m6re. 


Now,  though  I  liava  written  thus  much,  I  have  a  kind  of  feel- 
ing that  you  may  tbink  that,  after  all,  my  effort,  has  been  n 
vain — because  I  have  not  pointed  out  to  you  {I  have  not  tried) 
the  particular  fault.  The  relief,  be  assured,  is  to  he. found  in  a 
direct  application  to  the  L<u*d  Jesus,  as  a  poor,  uuwi>rthy,  un- 
done sinner.  You  remember  that  beautiful  hymn,  "Just  as  I 
am."     That  is  the  true  sentiment.     Make  it  3  our  own. 

As  ever,  yours,"  C. 


LETTE R    3  . 

Oct.  8th,  1861. 
Dear  C. — 1  thank  you  more  than  I  can  express,  for  your 
kindly  sympathizing  letter  in  return  for  minu,  which  I  feared 
would  be  very  wearisome  to  jTou.  It  rvotT*  h'y  reieved  ihe  to- 
dinm  of  the  journey  while  reading  it,  bu!  h:f*  given  me  much 
food  for  thought  ever  since.  I  trust,  too,  \ouitllbrt  to  asdsstmo 
has  not  been  in  vain  altogether.  Certainly  there  has  been  much 
comfort  in  the  thought  that,  far  as  I  feel  I  am  from  God,  I  may 
yet  perhaps  be  Win;  for  in  all  my  wanderings  f  have  never 
desired  to. choose'nny  other  save  Christ.  Still  again  and  again 
has  the  question  arisen,  "Am  I  a  child  of  God?"  And:review- 
ing  my  hie  since  my  public  profession,  T  could  not  but  answer, 
"&."  Long  ago  this  doubt  arose,  and  I  often  feared  that  I 
had  too  hastily  attached  myself  to  the  church,  when  T  WftS  yet 
too  much  a  child  to  know  exactly  what  I  did.  At  first,  this  gave 
me  much  pain  ;  but  soon  that  wore  away,  -aud  I  feK  relieved  to 
think  that  it  was  not  necessary  for  me  to  struggle  to  be  good. 
Still  I  despiFed  myself  as  a  hypocrite,  and  would  have  given 
worlds  if  1  could  have  withdrawn  from  the  church  without  tha 
publicity  which  would  attend  such  an  act.  I  shrank  from  com- 
munion seasons  with  nervous  dread;  for  the  words,  "He  that 
«atoth  and  drinketh  unwortily,"  were  ever  in  my- mind.  This 
wa.s  the  state  of  things  when  "the  last  protracted  meeting  was 
held  in  our  ehurch  ;  at  which  you  were  present.  While  others 
hailed  it' with  jov,  I  dreaded  it    At  first  I  ^only  attended  when 


,it  was  absolutely  imposs  hie  to  find  an  excu=e  not  to  do  so. — 
But  1  soon  became  interested  and  deeply  affected.  When  oth- 
ers presented  themselves  for  prayer,  I  felt  that  it  would  he  fit-* 
cr  for  me  to  bo  ihere  tlian  with  the  children  of  God  One 
nif  lit ,  1  remember  particularly,  a  number  united  with  the  chun-h, 
and  the  members  went  forward  to  wclconje  them.  T  was 
among  the  last,  for  1  could  scarcely  command  myself  sufficiently 
to  appear  composed.  Af'ier  Bervice  I  met  you,  and  almost  ask- 
ed that  when  you  remembered  these  new  convene  in  your 
prayers,  you  would  not  forget  one  who  had  more  need  of  pray- 
er than  they.  But  my  courage  tailed;  or  perhaps,  lo  speak 
more  truly \prfde  restrained  me. 

After  this  meeting,  by  decrees,  I  relapsed  into  my  old  state. 
AVhen  I  felt  that  "sin  had  dominion  javer  me,"  and  that  I  had 
no  strength  to  resist  temptation,  and  that  prayer  seemed  to 
bring  no  relief,  I  concluded  thai  1  was  inrjeed  a  cast-away,  and 
there  was  no  balm  in  Gilead  for  w<j,  that  whatever  of  happiness 
there  was  left  in  this  life  for  me,  I  would  enjoy  to  mv  heart's 
content  ;  and  .then — O!  that  then  would  indeed  terrify  me, — but 
I  fell  there  was  no  help.  m 

Still  I  have  never  neglected  [he  form  of  prayer,  even  while  I 
trembled  to  think  of  what  a  mockery  it.  was.  And,  though  I 
have  had  no  faith  to  expect  the  answers  to  my  oicn  prayers,  I 
have  never  doubted  the  promise*  of  the  Bible  ;  only  I  felt  I  had 
failed  in  some  way  (I  could  no:  guess  how)  to  lay  hold  of  them. 
(.could  not  <;  curse  God  and  die,"  but  I  "cursed' the  day  I  was 
born."  But  when  I  found  another  in  the  same  miserable  case, 
and  when,  in  his  agony,  be  suggested  doubts  more  teir.ble  than* 
my  own,  I  trembled  lest  I  too  should  learn  to  share  them..  This 
was  many  months  ago.  I  answered  E.  at  once,  carefully  con- 
cealing the  slate  of  my  own  heart,  and  urging  him,  by  'all  he 
held  dear,  to  retain  to  the  feet  of  Jesus  Strange  it  was  that 
what  had  not  shocked  me  in  myself,  should  have  terrified  me  in 
anoth-er !  However,  1  had  no  power  to  help  him.  or  even  to  ad- 
vise, and  he  and  I  have  alike  vvandered  ever  farther  and  farther 
from  the  fold  of  God. 
^  \ou  say  that  perhaps  God  does  not  grunt  our  requests  because 
they  might  be  ah  injury  to  us.  Now  tan  it  ever  be  wrong  tor 
ns  to  pray  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  another  t  O  !  this  piay- 
$  er  has  risen  so  often,  so  earnestly  from  my  heart,  that  for  a 
while  I  could  not  but   believe  that  a    prayer-answering   God 


10 

would  grant  my  petition.  The  prayers  T  offered  up  for  tnyselj 
may  have  been  not  sufficiently  heart  felt,  hut  there  have  'oven 
prayers  in  which  all  the  passionate  earnestness  of  my  heart  was 
concentrated.  And  yet  tin  y  are  still '  unanswered  !  .  Can  you 
wonder  that  I  have  no -faith  to  afk  fir  any  thing  else? 

I  f>jar  I  cannot  even  noio.ejairn  to  be  "  panting  after  God" — 
I  fear  I  am  generally  very  much  too  indifferent.  And  yet'if  JtI 
know  where  I  might  find  Him,  I  wcuid  g->  even  to  His  seat." 
S)me  things,  too,  still  affect  me  with  a  great  longing  to  be  a  true 
Christian.  For  instance,  there  are  two  passages  in  the  Bibla 
that  I  can  never  hear  without  a  strange  thrill.  One  which'  you 
j^oke  of — "Lord  thou  knowest  all  things;  thou  knowest  that  I 
love  thee."  The  other,  u  BJessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for 
they  shall  see  God  "•  Both  I  feel  to  he  the  language  of  my  heart. 
I  have  always  onged  for  tfiat purity  of  heart,  and  felt  that,  even 
without  the  promise  attached,  those  who  possessed  it  were  in- 
deed "  blessed."  But  i his  onlv  fills  me  with  a  deeper  conscious- 
ness of  my  unwortiiinessi  to  approach  a  holy  God. 

I  fear  you  have  so  often  heard  from  others  confessions  s'milar 
to  these,  that  you  are.  almost  weary  of  them;  hut  t!  e  kind  in- 
terest you  expressed,  and  willingness  to  hear  further  on  this 
subject,  has  emboldened  me  to  write  thrrs  much. 

You  would  hardly  helieve  what  an  effort  it  has  cost  me  so 
far  to  reveal  the  state  of  my  feelings;  ior  you  cannot  know 
how  jealously  I  have  guarded  any  expression  Qf  any  em'otion 
whatever.     However.  I  will  not  retract  now.  A. 


LETTER    4. 

Oct  29th,  1861. 
Dear  A. — Your  l?st  note  increased,  if  possible,  my  interest 
in  your  state  of  mind,  as  you  described  it.  You  may  wonder, 
then,  why  an  answer  has  been  so  long  delayed.  It  is  simply 
because  my  engagements  have  been  such,  since  the  receipt  of 
you  note,  as  absolutely  to  prevent  me  from  writing.  It  may  be 
that  this  has  been  providential  for  us  both.     I   hope    it    may 


11 

prove  so,  and  that  God's  hand  may  be  more  clearly  i6en  in  all 
the  ways  by  which  you  may  be  led. 

For  my  own  part  I  caunot  but  believe  that  you  .ire  iidw,  and 
have  for  some  time  b?en  passing  through  the  discipline  of 
God's  hands — and  my  prayer  always  for  you  is  that  God  will 
carry  on  the  work  He  has  began,  to  the  preparing  you  better 
for  useful  service  in  His  cause  in  the  future. 

The  difficulty,!  feel  in  writing  to  you  is  two-fold  :  on  the  one 
hand,  I  do  not  wish  to  "  break  the  bruised  reed,  nor  quench  the 
smoking  ilix  ;"  and  on  th?  other,  1  would  not  wish  to  excite 
within  you  any  hopes  that  may  prove  the  source  of  confusion, 
or  which  subsequent  experience  will  prove  to  be  groundless. 
What  you  have  said  in  regard  to  E;  N.  in  your  note,  only  con- 
firms my  opinion,  expressed  in  m  /  last  note  to  you,  io  regard 
to  his  dse.  I  do  not  doubt  that  Goi  will  finally  "  make  dark- 
ness tight  before  him."  I  am  hot  surprised  at  the  chill  Wff, 
crushing  doubts  he  expresses^  Thank  God  if  you  hare  thus 
far  escaped  them  ;  and  never  consider  that  all  is  lost,  if  they 
should  at  any  time  overtake  yon. •  Such  cases  are  more  com- 
mon than  many  suppose.  I  have  myself  been  tossed  on  that 
dark,  stormy  sea — "and/'  like  Paul,  "when  neither  sun  nor 
stars  in  many  days  appealed,  and  no  small  tempest  lay  on  me, 
all  hope  that  I  should  be  saved  was  then  taken  away."  May 
God  spare  you  that  bitter* anguish!  Though,  we  do  not  know 
ivhat  is  best.     His  will  be  done.  %   ' 

I  do  not  think  it  uncommon  nor  unaccountable  fhat  those 
who,  having  been  converted,  are  accustomed  to  rely  on  their 
feelings for  spiritual  comfort,  (young  persons,  especially),  and 
who  decide  on  their  spiritual  condition  by  their  feelings,  should, 
when  these  have  lost  some  of  their  freshness  doubt  the  reality 
of  their  piety  and  write  "  bitter  things  "  against  themselves. — 
And  this  is  especially  the  case  if  there  is  he  consciousness  of 
needect  of  plain  duties.  For  then  an  accusing  conscience 
drives  away  all  comfortable  feelings,  and  nothing  i3  left  to  give 
hope;  having  before  derived  all  66m fort  from  feelings.  This 
wh>le  business  of  trusting  to  feeling  has  more  of  self-righteous- 
ness mingled  with  it  than  many  suspect.  And  God  often  takes 
severe  means  to  rid  the  soul  of  it.  Pie  leaves  his  people,  "to 
prove  all  that  is  in  their  heart" — and  that,  when  recovered, 
then  may  not  only  strengthen  their  brethren,  but  that  they  may 
remember  and  be  confounded  and  never  frpen  their  mouth' any 


■     12  •   ■ 

more  because  of  their  shame,  when  He-is  pacified  toward  them 
furallihat  they  have  (lone.  Luke  22  :  ^31—82  ;  Ezek.  1G  :  63  ; 
l>ut.  8  :  2.  J>.  is  true  that  Christians  should  expect  comforta- 
ble feelings — there  is  something  wrong  if  they  are  long  with- 
out them — but" to  make  .hem  the  ground  of  our  confidence,  as 
to  the  reality  and  measure  of  our  piety,  is  equally  wrong.  For 
not  only  do  we,  then,  mingle  self  too  much  with  Jesus'  work, 
but  our  feelings  avo  often  despondent  on  bodily  changes,  health, 
&c.  ;  and  surely  that  is  not  a  safe  criterion  of  our  state -in  God'3 
sight,  which  an  east'wind  or  a  tooth-ache  may  affact. 

I  mention  these  things,  not  to  persuade  you  that  your  state 
of  mind  is  attributable  to  any  such  causes,  (for  I  am  sure  there 
are  other  and  more  serious  ones  ;  though  th°se  may  have  op- 
erated to  so  "ne  extent ;)  but  that  you  may  see  one  error,  at 
least,  that  is  not  uncommon.  I  would  like  to  know,  sometime, 
more  of  the  history  of  your  early  doubts.  But  that  is  not  im- 
portant now. 

Let  me  say. these  things  : 

You  have  long  time-been  in  the  frame  of  mind  you  describe 
— there  has,  therefore,  something  of  a  habit  of  doubt,  gloom, 
despair  been  formed.  This  habit  of  mind  is  itself  sinful: 
you  have,  of  course,  a3  you  say,  "wandered  ever  farther  and 
farther  from'the  fold  of  God."  The  distance  may  be  very 
great — God,  alone,  can  tell  how  great. 

Be  profoundly  convinced  of  the  value  of  your  soul.  Remem- 
ber that  no  work  can  be  compared,  in  importance,  with  that  of 
securing  your  everlasting  salvation. 

"  Nothing  is  worth  a  thought,  beneath,. 
But  how  I  may  escape  the  death 

Thfrt  never,  never  dies  !  ' * 

Hot?  ma>ko  mine  own  election  sure;    . 
And  when  I  fail  on  earth,  secure 

A.  man3'on  in  the  skies." 

Bft  willingr  to  know  the  truth  as  to  your  state  in  Gr>d-'s  sight. 
Be  not  afraul  of  it.  The  sooner  you  know  it  th«  better — what-, 
ever  it  may  be.  Jtnd  with  the  earnest  self-examination  you 
may  institute,  se^k  divine  search  also.  "  Search  me  0  God," 
&c.  Ps.  139:  23  —  24.  If  you  say  that  yen  have  already  in- 
stituted as  strict  and  impartial  a  self-examina1h;n  as  you  know 
how,  and  can  arrive  at  no  certain  conclusion,  or  if  the   result 


IS 

incline*  you  to  the  conviction  that  you  are  BM  not  a  child  ot 
God,  then  I  would  aay. — 

Remember  that  Jesus  is  able  and  willing  to  save  y*ut  though 
you  were  the  chief  of  sinners  ;  and  think  him  for  showing  his 
love  to  you  in  atoaking  you  to  a  sense  of  your  true  condition. 
And  if  indeed  you  find  ttat  you  do  not  have  any  love  for  His 
name,  His  cause,  His  hope,  His  word;  but  on  the  contrary, 
care  nothing  about  these  things,  then  be  in  earnest  in  seeking 
His  forgivfng  grace;  never,  under  any  circumstances,  lose 
sight  of  the  truth  that  He  is  able  to  save  unto  the  uttermost  all 
who  come  to  God  by  Him,  and  that  lie  will  cast  out  none  who 
come.  % 

But.  if  you  fiud  that  yon  can  solemnly  appeal  to  the  omnis- 
cient God  for  the  truth  of  your  love  to  Him— if,  notwithstand- 
ing all  its  imperfections,  you  can i  say,  "  Thou  knovrsi  that  I 
love  thee,"  if  filled  with  a  sense  of  prevailing  corruption,  that 
which  you  lo"g  for  more  than  any  possession  on  earth  besides, 
is  a  ware  heart — if  yon  do  "hunger  and  thirst  after  righteous- 
ness ''  O  !  however  far  you  may  have  wandered;  however  much 
backslidden,  remember  that  .Te-suer^nys,  ''Return  u^to  me." — 
Take  with  yoft  words,  and  turn  to  the  Lord  :  £ay  unto  Him. 
"Take  away  all  iniquity  and  receive  me  gr^iously  ;  so  will  I 
render  praise.     Hoe.  J  '  : 

'•'Just  ;is  I  am,  without  one  plea,"  &c. 

I  would  earnestly  advise  you  to  engage  in  some  work  for 
Christ.  Th,j  S.  School  may  n°ed  you — doubtless  you  need  it. 
Do  what  you  can  for. Him,  at  all  events.  You  have  abundant 
reason  to  consecrate  every  power  to  His  servire,  in  trying  to 
benefit  others — though  you  yourself  should  perish.  I  own  that 
that  is  a  sad  ->oneiusion  ;  but  it  is  a  true  one.  And  remember 
that  Christ's  blood,  His  atonement,  is  the  only  ground  of  hope 
of  salvaiion.  And  we  "joy  in  God"  when  •  we  ■  "receive  the 
atonement,"     Rom.  5:   II  and  3 :  .20— 26  and  6 :    I. 

I  do  not  wonder  that  you  "  shrank  from  communion  seasons 
with  nervous  dread" — and  that  while  others  , hailed  the  pro- 
tracted meeting  with  joy,  you  dreaded  it.  How  could  it  be 
otherwise,  with  your  state  of  mind  ?  I  was  going  to  say,  I  wish 
you  had  toljl  me  your  condition  a  year  ago  — but  perhaps  it  is 
all  bebt  as   it   is.     God  help  you  now  to  get  out  of  it  as  soon 


14 

&ff  possible.     Your  case  h  far  from  being  a  hopeloss    one,  tut 
it  «ight  to  ex'ite  intense  concern 

You  ask,  "  Can  it  ever  b^  wrong  to  pray  for  the  spiritual 
welfare  of  another?  "  Certainly  not :.  e  tea  as  it  can  never  be 
wrong  to  pray  for  Jour  "own  spiritual  welfare.  Nay,  we  sin  if  we 
do  not  pray.  But  as  God  otte'n,  for  wine  purposes,  delays  an- 
swers to  prayers  for  such  blessings',  or. answers  thQin  in  a  way 
altogether  unIook°d  for,  so  He  may  and  often  dos3,  delay  to 
grant  our  prayers  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  others,  cr  answers 
tbem  in  such  a  way  that  we  can  hnrdly  persuade  ourselves  that 
He  is  answering  them  at  all.  See  haw  Job  judges,  9  :  16 — -'18. 
Is  not  that  the  feeling  of  every  one  of "Us  I  We  call  for  the 
physician  ;  and  when  he  comes  we  cannot  believe  that  it  is  he 
that  has  come,  or  we  wish  him  a^ay,  because  he  gives  us  bit- 
ter medicine.  '"  But  this/'  you  will  gay,'  "  has  been  for  so  long 
a  time,  is  it  not  time  for  Him  to  hear,  if  He  intends  i-i  hear  at 
all?"  1  do  not  know — you  do  not  know.  Perhaps  He  does 
hear  ;  perhaps  is  answering,  though  you  are  ignorant  of  it. 
You  remembsr  Newton's  hymn  , 

"I  asked  th4bLord  that  I  might  grow,"  &o. 

That  is  the  history  of  more  than  one  case.     See  Isa.  42  :  1G. 

Among  other  sins,  be  sure  to  confess  that  of  unhelief.  And 
"  take  heed,  Jest  there  be  in  you  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief  in 
departing  from  the  living  tGrdd."  No  possession  is  so  sad  as 
'*'  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief." 

I  have  a  little  book  called  "  Grace  magnified,"  which  is  an 
account  given  by  a  living  minister  of  some  of  his  deep  spiritual 
t (roubles.     If  you  would  like  to  see  it,  I  will  send  it  to  you.    . 

May  God  bless  you  aud%e  with  you  ! 

As-ever,  yours,    •■•.  C. 


15 

LETTEft   6 , 

Nov.  9th,  1861,      ' 
Dear  C. — I  feel  that  I  have  much  cause  to  thank  God  that  I 
was  led  to   apply  to  you,  a 'id  to  thank  .«u   •  )t  you 

have  manifested  in  my  ease  Nothing  has  gives  one  moie  ?our^ 
age  to  continue  to  trouble  you  than  what  vou  tell  me  ot'  having 
experienced  these  doubts  yourself. 

When  I  first  wrote  to  you  on  this  subject,  it  was  with  fe*r 
and  trembling  ;  for  1  dreaded  lest  you  should  crush  out  the  little, 
hope  that  remained,  and  condemn  me  for  having  dared  so  long 
to  class  myself  with  the  people  of  God  Not  that  you  had  ever 
been  otherwise  than  kind  to  me — kind  as  a  brother  could  have 
been — but  I  thought  your  faith  had  never  for  one  moment  wa- 
vered, and  that  you  would  have  little  sympathy  with  one  who 
had  strayed  so  far ;  and  I  felt,  too,  that  I  did  not  deserve  to  be 
kindly  dealt  with.  So  it  was  more  in  desperation,  than  with 
any  hope  of  help  that  I  applied  to  vou.  I  bad  struggled  so 
long,  alone,  with  my  heavy  Imrden,  I  felt  as  if  it  might  be  some 
relief  to  confess  its  existence  ;  and  perhaps,  too,  I  thought  this 
confession  might  be  some  atonement  for  the  hypocrisy  of  which 
I  h^d  long*,  though  unintentionally,  been  guilty.  Nope  I  feel 
that  the  hand  of  God  was  in  it  as  I  have  at  last  been  led  to  feel 
that  His  mercy  has  directed  every  event  of  my  life.  1  s-  e  now 
that,  while  I  have  been  rebelling  against  Him  and  c<lli -sr  in 
question  His  loving-kindness,  He  has  been  directing  all  things 
for  ray  best  good.  Now,  it  is  with  a  feeliugr  almost  of  rest  that 
I  acknowledge  that  I  am  entirely  in  His  hands,  and  must  be 
completely  submissive  to  His  will.  And  I  have  learned,  too. 
to  trust  otnerq  for  whom  I  have  prayed  entirely  to  His  tender 
care.  For  this  new  feeling  of  trustfulness  I  must  thank  you, 
as  having  been  the. instrument  of  God  in  bringing  it  about. — 
Long  before  your  note  came  I  had  experienced  it — ever  siuce 
two  sermons  you  preached,  about  three  or  four  Sabbaths  ago, 
on  '•  Jesus  wept,"  and  "  I  will  lead  the  blind,"  &c.  ♦  I  never 
knew  exactly  how  it  came  about,  but  from  that  time  there  stole 
into  my  he*rt  a  confidence  in  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God 
to  which  I  had  long  been  a  stranger. 

Still  I  fear  I  cannot  answer,  with  entire  satisfaction,  the  tests 
of  a  Christian,  which  you  give  me — "love  for  His  name,  His 
people,  His  caOae,  His  word."     And  here  again  I  am  puzzled 


16 

beyond  measure  at  the  state  of  my  heart.-  1  cannot  hel{?  feel- 
ing that  I  love  His  name— it  would  grieve  me  greatly  to  think 
that  I  did  not,  and  I  feel  as  if  in  earnest  I  could  exclaim  "Thou 
knowest  that  I  love  thee."  Still  He  Himself  hath  said,  "  If  ye 
love  me,  keep  my  commandments.-'  And  this  I  fe^l  1  have- 
not  done.  I  am  never  conscious  of  performing  a  right  "action  $ 
for  if  the  act  itself  is  right,  it  is  sure  to  be  prompted,  by  some 
wrong  motive.  To  every  temptation!  yield  readily  :  and  more- 
over I  have  never  done  anght  for  the  cau^e  of  Christ,  and  still 
feel  utterly  incapable  of  doing  anything  tor  Him.  And  so,  as 
much-as  it  pains  me  to  think  so,  I  must  conclude  that  I  do  noi 
love  Him.  ■'.'•"• 

Again  I  am  afraid  I  cannot  say  I  love  all  Christians.  When 
I.  already  love  a  person,  my  love  is  much  increased  .  by  the 
knowledge  that  the  person  is  a  Christian  ;  but,  at  the  same 
time,  I  must  confess  that  I  have  an  antipathy  to  many  very 
good  people.  Otten  I  cannot  even  give  a  reason  for  this. — 
Sometimes  ft  arises  from  a  species  of  cant  to  which  they  are 
given.  From  earliest  childhood  I  have  dreaded  every  manifes- 
tation of  this  kind  ;  and  this  is  still  the  case  now,  when  I  ought 
to  be  governed  by  very  different  principles. 

Still  more  doubtfully  must  I  answer  when  I  come  to  speak 
of  His  cause  and  His  uord..  I  am  afraid  I  do  not  love  them  as  I 
ought.  I  do  not  enjoy  the  Bible  as  I  have  seen  some  Christians 
do.  Many  passages  are  ?ery  precious  to  me,  but  much  of  it  I 
fear  I  do  not  appreciate  nor  understand  ;  for  now  that  the  nov- 
elty has  worn  off,  it  wearies  me  like  a  **  twice-told  tale."  I 
know  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  this  eonfessjron,  and  I  am  sorry 
to  make  it,  but  it  is  nevertheless  true.  You  tell  me  there  is  a 
remedy  for  all  this— that  Jesus  is  able  and  willing  to  save  the 
chief  of  sinners.  *  I  know  it — T  could  almost  say  I  have  felt  it ; 
but  I  am  afraid  I  have  no  right  to  say  so,  after  having  acknowl- 
edged the  failure  of  all  these  tests.  Still,  if  I  have  net  already 
gone  to  Kim,  I  know  not  liow  to  do  it;  for  it  does  seem  to  me 
that  I  have  believed  in  Him,  and  trusted  only  to  Him  for  sal- 
vation. I  long  for  a  pure  heart,  and  i  cannot  help  feeling  that 
I  love  Him  ! 

I  should  be  glad  to  see  the  book  you  speak  of — "  Grace  Mag- 
nified "-  and  again  I  must  thank  you  for  your  kind  effort  to 
help  mo.     May  God  reward  you  as  I  nfrver  cam 

Your  friend,  A. 


17        ■ 

I  bad  almost  forgotten  what  you  said  about  do; ng  some  work 
for  Christ.  I  wish  I  knew  what  I  could  do.  The  S.  School  is 
now  unfortunately  out  of  the  question.  I  net*r  willing**  gave 
it  up,  for  I  always  enjoyed  it,  though  I  am  afraid  it  was  of  more 
use  to  me  than  I  was  to  my  .scholars. 

This  field  of  usefulness  being  removed,  tD  what  other  can  I 
look?  I  hope  I  am  not  ashamed  of  Jesus,  but  I  never  have 
been  able  to  apeak  for  Him.  And  thus  I  feel  I  am  doing  abso- 
lutely nothing  for  His  cause. 


LETTER   6. 

Nov.  18th,  1801. 

Bear  A. — Your  letter,  making   me   glad,  came   to   me   in 

M n  ;  but  I  was  so  busy  while  there,  that   I  did  not   have 

time  to  reply.  I  may  have  as  little  reason  to  regret  the  delay 
in  this  instance  as  in  the  case  of  my  last  letter;  for  you  must 
know  that  J  have  felt  glad,  since  I  received  your  last,  that  you 
were  left  for  a  time  to  be  solely  under  God's  tuition.  He 
"  teaclfcth  to  profit."  I  have  aH  the  time  believed  that  the 
hand  of  God  could  be  clearlv  traced  in  this  matter.  I  am  glad 
that  you  have  seen  it.  So  Him,  the  leader  of  the  blind,  be  all 
the  glory ! 

And  you  thought  that  my  faith."  had  never  for  one  moment 
wavered."  We  little  know  what  is  going  on  in  the  hearts  of 
those  about  us— we  little  know  their  struggles — we  are  often 
not  aware  of  their  being  moved,  even  when  agitated  to  their 
prof ou tides t  depths.  Yes,  I  pray  Cod  to  deliver  others  from 
the  fearful  darkness  in  which  J  have  sometimes  been  enveloped 
--from  the  bitfer,  agonizing  doubts,  destroying  all  peace  and 
happiness— unless  it  be  that  He  intend?,  by  such  a  training,  to 
prepare  them  for  helping  some  other  fellow  pilgrim  out  of  the 
dark,  deep  sloughs  which  lie  along  life's  pathway.  And  I 
doubt  not  that  God  intends  that  you  shall  be  useful  for  Him  in 
some  such  way ;  in  a  way,  at  least,  for  which  your  late  expe- 
rience will  in  eome  measure  prepare  you. 


18 

0  when  I  look  back  at  my  past  life,  there  are  scenes  in  it  of 
which  even  now  it  makes  me  shudder  to  think.  Yet  the  Re- 
deemer has  been  good  a"d  has,  I  think,  by  them  brought  me 
to  trust  more  implicitly  in  Him — in  Him  only.  I  can  despair 
of  none,  if  I  am  saved  ;  audi  cannot  but  deal  kindly  with  all,, 
when  I  remember  His  great  kindness  and  gentleness  to  me. 

And  now  let  me  say  that  you  seem  to  have  made  another 
mistake  very  common — especially  among  those  who  make  ear- 
ly profession  of  religion  and  who  do  not  remember  the  true 
ground  of  acceptance  before  God,  aud  the  true  source  of  holi- 
ness. I  infer  that  you  made  the  mistake,  from  "what  you  say  of 
your  "  never  being  ponscious  of  performing  a  purely  right  ac- 
tion ;  for  if  the  act  itself  is  right,  it  is  sure  to  be  prompted  by 
some  wrong  motive."  Do  you  think  that  is  peculiar  to  your- 
self? Alas!  there  i=<  not  a  day  passes  over  my  hefld,  not  a 
seivice  I  perform,  but  I  amobliged  to  confess  the  sins  of  even 
my  best  deeds  :  and  I  shall  expect  it  to  Be  so,  to  a  greater  or 
less  extent,  until  it  please  God  to  bring  me  to  His  sinless  abode. 
"  A  purely  right  action."  I  know  I  ought  to  perform  none 
other,  but  I  have  never  p-rforrned  the  first  one  that  I  know  of. 
A  purely  right  prayer — did  you  ever  pray  one  ?  I  never  did, 
that  I  can  remember.  And  it  is  the  deep,  penetrating  con- 
viction of  tjjis,  that  make  the  gospel  so  precious  to  me  in  re- 
vealing a  perfect  righteousness  which  may  be  mine,  and  an  ac- 
cepted and  glorious  Mediator  between  God  and  man,  \ih.o  pre- 
sents all  our  sacrifices,  purifying  them  from  all  their  imperfec- 
tions and  adding  the  incense  of  His  own  most  Holy  will  to  our 
poor,  worthless  prayer.  And  thus  they  become  acceptable  in 
His  hands  and  for  His  merits.  Eph.  3:  20.  Heb.  13:  15. 
1  Pet.  2  :  4 — 5.  You  will  wait  a  long  time,  if  you  wait  to  do 
a  purely  right  action  in  order  to  conclude  that  you  are  a  child 
of  God.  Jesus  is  our  righteousness — He  is  our  all. — 
1  Cor.  1:  30 — 31..  We  are 'accepted  in  the  Beloved:  Eph.  1  :  6. 
And  I  will  tell  you  that  you  will  continue  to  "yield  readily  to 
ev^ry  temptation,"  until  you  distinctly  apprehend  the  true 
source  of  holiness.  It  is  not  in  faithful  resolutions.  These 
may  and  will  be  made  and  broken  a  thousand  times,  to  the 
mortification  and  discouragement  of  whoever  makes  them,  un- 
til it  is  r  c  jived  that  the  way  to  be  holy  is  to  realize  the  fact  of 
your  forgiveness — the  bleseci  declaration  of  Godtha*,  whatever 
yn&y  be  yotfr  personal  unworthiness  and   guilt,  if  you   do   but 


put  your  trust  in  HisSon — if  you  will  rely  on  Jinn,  aforii,  for  sal- 
vation— you  are  fort  v  r  free  from  the  guilt  of  sin  and  can  nev- 
er come  into  condemnation. 

You  cannot  deny  Cbat  vou  love  the  Saviour: — yonr  love  may 
be  weak  a>  d  imperfect,  but  it  is  real,  This  you  admit.  You 
can  net  dmy  that  you  trust  in  Him  for  salvation,  and 
that  if  He  fa  1  you,  then  all  is  gone.  Then,  to  be  hply,  to  be 
happy,  to  s^rve  God,  to  do  \vh  it  lie  commands  you,  "  Reckon 
you,"  &c.  Rom.  G:  1  —  !•!•  You  have  for  hmg  years  been 
trying  to  make  yourself  wortlsv    of  I  before    God. — 

You  hi. ve  tried  tho  working  plan  long  enough— -now  try  the 
believing  p'a'i. '    Rom.  4:   4 — .">. 

You  find  that  you  "havV an  antipathy  to  many  very  good 
people."  This  is  not  because  they  are  good,  T  know  ;  but  ba- 
c  tuse  of  their  fault-;.  If  they  Were  free  4rom  these,  your  anti- 
pathy would  rcase  -  Wh^t  vou  havfl  an  antipathy  to,  therefore, 
is  their  wa^s  more  than  <}\-.  mselves.  Now  I  have  no  idea  that 
wc  are  expee'ed  to  love  ail  the  ways  of  even  very  good'  people 
— so  long  as  they  are  not  altogether  perfect  We  ought  to  do 
the  contrary,  very  often.  If  you  do  not  distinguish  between 
persons  and  their  ways,  I  do  not  wonder  that  yon  have  an  anti- 
pathy co  some  ^ery  good  persons,  even  :  especially,  if  they  are 
given  to  a,  species  of  cant — a  thing  from  which  I  shrink  with 
perfect  abhorrence,  wherever  found.  I  know  a  number  of  per- 
sons whom  I  believe  to  be  Christiana  ;  but" very  many  of  whoje 
ways  I  never  can,  never  wish  to  like.  But  I  am  sure  I  desire 
to  love  piety  wherever  found,  though  in  the  humblest  and  low- 
est person  in  the  land,  and  to  love  him  for  his  piety.  And  I 
try  to  love  these  persons  in  spite  of  iheir  imperfections,  remem- 
bering.my  own — to  avoid  their  errors  and  copy  their  virtues.  I 
■  believe  you  do  too.. 

I  am  not  at  all  surprised  that  you  have  not  relished  God's 
word,  and  that  it  has  wearied  you  "like  a  twice-told  tale." 
How  could  1t be  Otherw'ge,  so   long  "as    you   had   that   slavish 

spirit  towards  God  ?      Ah  !  A ,  you  have  been  working  up 

hill — and  yours  has  bee1',  for  the  most  part,  a  it  cad-mill  pre- 
ffre8Sf  You  took  many  steps  but  made  no  advance.  May  God 
sanctify  your  tedious  journey  to  you,  in  making  you  willing  to 
be  wholly  saved  by  Christ  alone.  The  moments  of  rest  you 
may  have  occasionally  had,  were  given  you  because  God  has 
loved  you  all  along,  aud  they  were   in    fepite  of  your   constant 


distrust  of  Him.  Like  Noah's  weary  dov^,  you  have  soagrht 
rest — you  have  found  nothing  perfectly  satisfying,  nor  can  you, 
out  of  Christ.  It  is  through  Grod'a  tender  mercy  that  you  have 
not  been  permitted  to  rest  on  a  false  ground  of  hope,  which 
should  finally  prove  to  you  the  source  of  confusion.  Now, 
cease  this  restless  pursuit— Jesivs  calls  you  to  save  you,  all  by 
H\mself.     It  is  ti  me,  now  to  rest. 

•  fi  Behold  tha  ark  of  God, 
Behold  the  opea  door: 
0  hasta  to  gain  that  dear  abode,  * 
And  rove,  and  rove  uo  more. 

'there  safe  thou  shalt  abide, 

There  ssveet  shall  be  thy  rest; 
And  every  longing  satisfied,  . 
With  full  salvation  blest  " 

"  Blessed. are  they  which,do  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteous- 
ness ;  for  they  shall  ve  filled/' 

I  sentl  you  "  Grace  Magnified."  It  will  do  you  good  to  read 
it.  I  do  not  know  what  to  tell  yau  to  do,  in  the  way  of  active 
service  for  Christ.  .If  you  a jk  Him,  He  will  show  you  what 
you  ought  to  do. 

As  ever,  yours,    .  C.  • 


LETTER    7. 

Dec,  12th,  1861. 
T)par  0. — I  thank  you  for  your  little  book,  and  am  very  glad 
you  lent  it  to  me.  After  what  I  have  told  you,  you  will  proba- 
bly see  that  it  reminded  me  very  forcibly  of  my, own  late  expe- 
rience ;  though  I  have  not  the  presuimptioa  to  think  it  an  en- 
tirely analogous  case.  I  fear  I  never  suffered  as  deeply  as  the 
author  describes  himself  to  have  done — never  felt  sucii  keen 
anguish  on  acoouDt  of  my  sins — never  struggled  so  earnestly 
for  light— never  so  yearned  for  holiness  ;  for  my  natural  impa- 
tience made  me  cast  the  whoie  subject  from  me  when  it  became 


too'biinfnl  to  be  endured.  And  though  I  often  suffered  torn* 
fely,  yet  this  was  never  .»  very  protracted  struggle,  for  I  wae  al- 
ways too  ready  to  give  it  up  as  hopeless.  Still,  vou  nr-y  imag- 
ine, I  wad  never  very  happy,  ami  in  my  gayest  moment  "there 
was  a  secret  bitterness  in  my  heart  that  turned  all  my  phasure 
into  gall.  I  can  truly  sympathize  with  the  author  when  he  says, 
"  I  cannot,  pray  in  what  I  consider  prayer  ;  I  cannot  repent  m 
what  I  regard  to  be  repentance  :  I  cannot  brieve  in  the  Scrip- 
tural sense  of  that  term  ;  I  cannot  dove  God  with  my  whole 
heart,  as  He  should  be  loved  by  a  rational  being  :  I  cannot  feel, 
nor  do  anything  'hat  a  Christian  ought  to  do,  to  glorify  God." 
(P.  C5.)  "When,  at  last,  this  great  darkness  was  dispelled,! 
did  not  find  mvso.lf  in  the  ecstasy  which  he  describes;  but 
doubtless,  Inasmuch  as  my  sorrow  was  les,s  a^cute,  my  joy  was 
also  less  exquisite  Still  there  stole  into  my  heart  a  great 
peace  and  content — a  feeling  of  infinite  rest — and  I  well  re- 
member the  occi~-ion.  It  was  while  I  was  listening  to  a  ser- 
mon from  the  words,  "  I  voll  bring  the  blind,"  &e.  (Isa.  42: 
16.)  I  felt,  then.  tbatl  had  been  indeed  Mind,  not  bofore  to 
behold  and  acknowledge  my  Saviour's  wonderful  mercy  towards 
me.  I  felt  all  that  day  again  like  the  anchor.  I  prayed  God  to 
take  me  away  to  Him,'  while  my  love  Avas  yet  fresh  and  ardent ; 
for  I  dreaded  again  to  fall  iuio'a state  ofcoldnesa  and  indiffer- 
ence. And  again  and  again,  the  words  of  that  beautiful  hymn 
occurred  to  me, 

"  I  ^ra  weary  of  strayinjr  — 0,  fain  would  I  rest 
In  the  far  distant  land  of  the  pure  and  the  Idest; 
I  irra  weary,  ray  Saviour,  of  grieving  tby  lovo; 
O  when  eh'all  I  rest  in  thy  prescDco  above. 

Since  that  time  there  have  beCn  many  hours  of  doubt  and  dark- 
less, many  times  when  I  have  exclaimed,  "after-  all,  I  am  not 
a  Christian,"  many  errors  and  misapprehensions,  (some  of 
which  you  kindly  cprrected  in  your  last  letter  :)  but  still,  when 
I  do  apply  the  test  and  call  upoft  the  hr>art  searching  God,  I 
I  can  still  cry.  sincerely  I  think,  li  Lord  Thou  knowe.-tall  things,1 
Thou  knowest  that.  I  love  thee  !  "  Too  often  I  feel  "  my  love  is 
weak  and  faint ;  "  still  1  cannot,  I  dare  not,  give  up  this  hope, 
and  I  know  and  feci  that  my  only  safety  is  at  His  feet.  I  am 
ignorant  and  weak  as  a  child- -1  caun  >t.  take  one  step   without 


'    ?> 

His  aid.  When  I  tried  it,  I  wandered  so...  Car  away  that  the 
journey  back  has  been  long  and  painful.  0  pray  for  nie,  that 
now  that  I  have  ffcu.nd  Him  again,  I  may  ever  cling  close  to 
Hira  and  never  resign  my  hold  on  Him,  for  one  moment. 

Do  you  remember  some  verses  you  once  repeated,  when 
preaching  in  our  church,  commencing  (I  think)  "  Cling  close 
to  the  Holy  One?"  #  If,  some  leisure  time,  you  would  copy 
them  off- for  me, I  would  he  ve*y  much  obliged.  The  late  sad 
events  in  our  family  h.av*e  .drawn  me  closer  to  the  Suviour's- 
feet.  .1  have  learned  the  meaning  of  the  Saviour's  exhoitatio.n 
to'"  become  as  little  children;  "  and  wonder  no  longer  that 
"  of  such  is  the  kingdom-of  heaven."  Such  trust,  such  unques-* 
tinning  faith  in  God  as  J— — exhibited  will,  I  hope,  always  he 
a  lesson  to  me,  Then,  Besides,  .1  learned  what  consolation  the 
promises  of  the  Bible*  can  afford  in  such  au  hour. 

One  thing  more :  the  words  "When  thou  art  converted, 
strengthen  thy  brethren,"  have  many  times  lately  occurred  to 
me,  and  I  .have  been  wondering  whether  I*was  really  as  willing 
to  work  for  Christ  as  I  said  I  was.  I  complained  that  I  did 
not  know  what  He  would  have  me  to  do  ;  and  now  I  much  'ear 
fthat,  if  I  knew,  I  would  not  be  ready  to  no  it.  I  don't  know 
what  it  is— —I  hope  not  ialse  shame,  but  something  has"  held  me 
back  a  thousand  times  when  I  might  have  Apoken  for  Jesus. 
Twice  I  remember  being  appealed  to  for  counsel  and  direction 
on  this  subject,  and  instead  of  saying  "Behold  the  Lamb  of 
God  who  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world,"  I  actually  waived 
the  subject,  and  refused  to  speck!  Would  you,  can  you  believe 
it?  And  though,  in  bittf  r  repentance  I  1  ave  prayed. for.those 
persons  ever  since,  how  can  I  hope  for  an  answer  to  my  pray- 
ers—I, who  "quenched  the  smoking  flax?"  One  of  them  is 
far  away  on  a  distant  battle  field,  and  daily  I  fear  to  hear  that 
he  has  been  summoned  into  the  presence  of  his  Judge.  Do 
vou  wondorthat  after  this  I  dare  not  tr rust  myself—  daie  not  be-' 
lievethat  I  am  willing  to  do  aught  to  help  the  rau^e  of  Christ  ? 

Another  thine  I  would  like  to  ask  you:  and  that-  if,  why, 
when  my  stated  hours  for  prayer  arrive,  my  mind  wanders  to 
other  subjects,  ray  heart  becomes  cold  as  a  stone, my  prayers  are 
lifeless  and  heartless,  and  I  offer  Qjalj Up  servipe  ?  Now,  when 
you  tell  roe  of  Jesus'  dying  love,  my  heart  glows  within  me  j 
and  at  other  times,  during  the  weekf  when  I  remember  Him,  my 
prayers  ascend  continually,  and  His  name  is-  sweet  to  my  ear ; 


23 

but  when  I  come  to  pray,  I  become  dull  and  insensible.  Sure- 
ly, something  is  very  wrong  about  it,  and  yet  I  vainly  struggle 
— vainly  pr#y  that  J  may  learn  to  pray  aright.  ■  Won't  you  pray 
for  me  that  this  m;iy  cease  fobs  so? 

Your  friend,  A.  . 

I  have  written  to  E.,  to-ni:*  M,  and  have  tried  to  help  him; 
but  am  much  afraid  that  I  did  not  know  how  to  go  abput  it 
aright.     At  any  rate,  I  can  try  to  pray  for  him. 


LETTER    8  . 


Dec.  17, 1801. 


Dear  A. — With  this  this,  I  send  you  a  copy  of  the  lines 
you  asked  for  in  ypur  note  of  the  1 2tl>;-  ^ 

I,  too,  read  "  Grace  Magnified  "  with  much  of  the  interest 
that  would  attach  to  a  record  of  my  own  experience;  for  I 
found  many  things  in  it  to  remind  mc  forcibly  of  my  own  ex- 
ercises of  mind.  But,  like  you,  I  may  say  that  they  did  not 
result  in  such  an  ecsfaaj  as  the  author  describes — my  sorrow 
for  sin  being  less  accutc,  my  joy  was  also  less  thrilling. — 
"Great  peace  and  content— a  feeling  of  infinite  rest/' — 
would  better  have  desci ibed  my  state  of  mind.  It  appeared 
to  me  as  if  Jesus  had  come  tame  and  spoken  as  lie  did  to 
His  disciples  in  the  storm  in  which  He  slept,  and  said, 
"  Peace,  be  still !  "  and  my  agitated,  unquiet  heart  had  dih- 
solved  into  blessed  repose. 

I  do  not  wonder  that  you  have  since  been  troubled  some- 
times with  darkness  and  difficulties.  I  do  know  that  it  is  a 
very  common  thing  in  the  experience  of  God's  children  in 
similar  circumstances.  The  author  of  "G.ace  Magnified," 
youreuiembeiyiotes  the  return  of  that  Horrid  darkness,  even 
after  his  deliverance.     In  his  case,  however,  it  was  soon  dis- 


24 

Bipated  by  "  looking  to  Jesus"  as  "  ever  living  to  make  in- 
tercession for  us."  God  "  teaclietli.  us  to  profit v — when  He 
begins  a  work,  He  carries  it  on.  We  would  often  be  content 
with  the  knowledge  we  have  at  first  gained;  but  He  would 
make  us  know  more  of  His  fullness — and,  to  do  this,  He  of- 
ten leads  us  into  great  straits,  where  is  horrible  darkness. 
"  Thbu  shalt  remember  all  the  way,"  &c*  Deut.  8  :  2 — 5. 
Read  that  whole  passage ;  indeed,  the  whole  chapter  is  per- 
tinent. '  ■     ■■  pv<*. 

After  God  has  brought  "the  blind  by  a  way  they  knew 
not,"  He  often  leads  ihem  <l-  in  paths  they  have  not  known  ;" 
nothing  like  it  was  ever  known  in  their  experience  before. 
But  He  never  forsakes.  We  must  follow  Him  clinging  to 
Jesus  ;  all  will  be  right  in  the  end.  I  know  it  requires  great 
trust  to  be  able  to  realize  that  we  are  in  the  ft  right  way,"  at 
such  times.  But  that  is  God's  method  of  teaching  us  to  trust. 
"  What  time  lam  afVp'id,  I  will  trust  in  thee."  Ps.  56  :  3. 
I  know  thai  you  are  "weary  of  straying" — take  heed  that 
you  be  sure  to*  follow  wherevkr  Jesus  leads.  He  never 
leads  to  sin;  but  lie  does, sometimes,  to  Gethsemane — to 
Pilate's  ha.ll  (where  we  may  be  tempted  to  betray  Him)  — to 
the  cross.     See  Mark  8:  34-3G  and  10:  35-40.- 

"  Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken 
All  to  leave,  and  folow  thee." 

You  ask  why  it  is  that,  when  your  "stated  hours  for  pray-  - 
er  arrive,  your  mind  is  filled  with  other  subjects,  your  heart 
becomes  cold  as  stone, your  prayers  are  lifeless  .and  heartless, 
and  you  offer  only  lip-service."  Perhaps  I  cannot  tell  you, 
altogether;  I  only  know  that  to  be  a  frequent  experience  of 
many  of  God's  children.  I  know  that  it  often  seems  as  if, 
when  I  retire  for  prayer,  it  is  thcsignal  for  all  the  vanities  of 
the  world  to  come  crowding  into  my  mind  so  as  to  choke  all 
utterance,  even  of  heart  tcords,  I  have  not.  I  know  one  who 
can  correct  these  thins*.     I  road,  "  Likewise  the  Spirit  also 


p 

helpcth  (literally,  A*//*?//*  aganut)  our  iniirmmesj  for  we 
know  not  what  we  should  pray  for  as  we  ought ;  butthe  Spir- 
it Himself  maketh  intercession  for  us  with  groanings  that 
cannot  be  uttered."  Rom.  8  :  26-28.  One  unuttered  groan 
— unuttored, because  unjitterable—  tolls  more  to  our  Heav- 
enly Father  than  many  loud  crie.- ;  even  ar  the  mo;in  of  a 
poor,sick  child  attracts  the  mother's  attention  more  than  the 
cries  of  a  well  one.  "  Can  a  mother  forget  ?  "  See  Isa.  49  : 
15.  I  think  there  are-  a  great  many  christians  who  sutler 
much  and  long,  because  they  do  not. believe  in  the  Hoh/ 
Ghost.  He  filla  Christ's  place  on  earth—-  another  comfor- 
ter." When  we  pray,  we  must  pray  in  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Jude20.  /Whatever  comes,  let  us not  cease  to  try  to  pray. 
TheTjord  can  t  hear.the  desire  of  the  humble."  t  Vs.  10  :  17 
and  33 :  9. 

And  you  think  thai  I  ran  never  believe  that  you  refused 
to  speak  for  Christ;  to  one, too,  who  appealed  to  you  for 
counsel.  I  know  it  was,  very  wrong  and  deeply  to  be  de- 
plored, as  you  say  you  have  deplored  it— but  why  should  I 

not  believe  it?     Ah,  A ,you  are  not  the  first  nor  only 

persou  that  ever  did  that  same  thing  !  may  the  Lord  not  lay 
this  sin  to  our  charge  ! — a  kind  of  denial  of  our  Lord,  worse. 
perhaps,  than  Peter's  ;  for  he  denied  in  the  midst  of  cruel 
and  powerful  foes— we,  to  those  who  "  would  see  Jesus." 
May  God  forgive  us  !  Why  do  you  say,  u  though,  in  bitter 
repentance,  1  have  prayed  for  those  persons  ever  since,  how 
can  I  hope  for  an  answer  to  my  prayers,  I,  who  'quenched  the 
smoking  flax'?"  WTiy  shut  yourself  up  in  sorrow,  when 
God  has  forgiven  your  sin  ?  why  quench  your  own  prayer  by 
doubting  the  efficacy  of  Christ's  prevailing  blood  and  inter- 
cession ?  <;  Fear  not,  only  believe."  There  is,  in  this,  an 
indication  of  the  same  legal  spirit  that  has  already  cost  you 
so.much  grief.  Let  not  this  sorrow  have  the  power  to  work 
death.  It  ought  to  work  repentance.  "The  "  sorrow  of  the 
world  "  leads  either  to  an  utter  disregard  of  our  actious  and 
heir  consequences,  or  to  despair— dark  and  sullen, — and  so 


.     213 

the  end  is  death :  "  godly  sorrow/'  on  the  other  hand,  leads 
to  a  viewing  of  our  sin  as  God,  as  Jesus  views  it ;  but  it  also 
points  to  pardon  and  a  new  life  of  hopefulnesr.  "  These 
things  I  write  unto  you  that  ye  sin  not,"  &c.  1  John  2  :  1# 
'  I  have  no  idea  who  the  friend  is,  to  whom  you  refer  as 
being  on  a  distant  battle-field.  Why  may  you  not  write  to 
him  and  endeavour  yet  to  direct  his  mind  to  the  Redeemer  ?  ■ 
But,  at  all  events,  do  not  let  the  consciousness  of  past  sin 
shut  up  your  prayers,  so  long  as  there  is  a  throne  of  grace  to 
which  }rou  are  invited  to  come  boldly,  aiuia  Saviour  upon  it 
who  ever  livetli  to  make  intercession  for  you. 

You  can  never  know  whether  you  are  really  willing  to 
■work  for  Christ,  by  simply  questioning  your  heart.  Do 
something,  do  everything,  for  His  sake — out  of  love  to  Him. 
Let  daily,  domestic  duty  be  thus  consecrated.  It  is  not  by 
doing  this  or  that  particular  thing,  that  we  serve  Christ,  so  - 
much  as  by  doing  ail  in  the  name  of  Christ.  A  cup  of  cold 
water  is  a  trifle,  in  itself ;  a  kind  word,  a  gentle  expression 
of  sympathy  ;  a  diligent,  devoted  spirit  may  cost  but  little— 
but  if  the  water  is  given  in  the  name  of  Christ,  out  of  love  to 
Him  ;  if  the  kind  and  gentle  word  of  sympathy  is  so  spoken 
that  His  blessing  is  asked  u^pon  it ;,  if  our  diligence  in  daily 
toil  be  with  a  heart  constantly  trying  to  please  the  Lord  Je- 
sus, we  are  serving  Him  as  really,  perhaps  as  effectually,  as  if 
we  were  preaching  Him  among  the  heathen.  I  never  for- 
get you  in  prayer.  '<• 

•As  ever,  C. 


LETTER    9 

Jan.  ls^  1861 
Drar  0. — I  thauk  you  for  the  words  of  il  Clinging  to  Je- 
sus.'' I  tt'tiist  I  may . so  learn  to  cling  to  Him.  One  thing  you 
say  strikes  me  vWy  much.  It  is  with  reference  to  believing 
in  the  Holy  Ghost.  I  am  afraid,  when  I  think  of  it.  that  I  do 
not ;  that  is,  that  my  ideas  on-this  subject  are  so  obscure  that 
Ihardly  know  what!  believe.  I  never  questioned  anything 
that  was  tanght  me  on  this  subioet,  but  I  simply  passed  it  by, 
and  in  prayer  have  thought  only  of  Go  1  the  Father  and  God 
tbjpSon.     I  trust  God  will  enlighten  me  I 

With  reference  to  my  mend  on  a  distant  battle-field,  I 
don't  think  I  could  ever  approach  him  on  this  subjee*,  unless 
he  himself  led  in  some  way  to  it.  for  when  he  spake  to  me  I 
had  some  reason  to  fear  that  he i  wanted  to  u  prove  me  with 
hard  question.;."'  I  may  have  wronged  him  ;  but  I  thought 
his  was  le-sa  desire  \o  be  taught  th an  a  wish  to  draw  me  in- 
to an  argument,  in  which  ho  was  pretty  certain  to  be  tri- 
umphant;, for  I  could  only  bch'r.rr,  and  could  not  explain 
ray  belief.  I  repent,  I  ra%.y  have  done  him'  injustice,  and 
1  have  never  failed  to  pray  for  him  since  he  left,  though 
I  fear  1  have  hardly  expected  an  answer.  With  respect 
to  my  other  friend,  the  case  was  different.  .He  was  indeed 
an  earnest  inquirer.  Still,  I  never  knew  exactly  how  to 
reply  to  Lis  questions,  and  so  I  remained  silent.  After- 
wards, when  he  went  away,  and  I  never  expected  to  see 
him  agairvl  bitterly  repented  of  the  injury  I  had  done  him 
and  tried  i  a  repair  it  by  writing  to  him.  This  much  I  ac- 
complished, he  promised  to  read  the  Bible  every. day. 
Then  I  felt  satisfied  to  leave  him  in  the  hands  of  God  who 
alone  is  able  to  make  us  wise  unto  salvation.  Still,  I  feel 
and  havo>felt  all  along,  that  this  does  not  absolve  me  from 
the  guilt  of  having  "  denied  the  Lord.1'  But  I  do  not  now 
mourn  hopelessly,  when  I  remember  "if  any  man   sin   wc 


have  an  advocate,  with  the  Father,  oven  Jeiu3   Christ  tho 
Righteous. "  YourJiiend,  '  g       A. 

P.  o. — Siuee  writing  tho  foregoing,  we  have  just  heard 

that  P is  considered  dying.     I  leave  at  once   on    this 

sad  journey.  .      •         * 


LETTER   1  p . 

Jan.  8th,  1862. 

Bear  A — I  am  indeed  sorry  for  the  circumstances  that 

caused  you  to  leave  h.ome,  hut  hope  you  v, ill   find    P 

better  than  you  feared.  As  ycror"  movements  are  uncer; 
tain,--to  us,  at  least — -I  do  not  know  that  this  will  reach 
you;  but  I  thought  I  would  make  the  experiment.  Sad 
as  such  journey  necessarily  is,  you  must  know  that  the 
thoughts  and  prayers  of  some  are  following  you  ;  commit- 
ting you  all  to  the#ave  of  Him  that  keepeth  Israel,  who 
neither  slumbers  nor  sleep**  He  "  worketh  all  things  af- 
ter the  counsel  of  His.ovui  will;  "  and  "  we  know  that  all 
things  work  together  for  yood  to  them  that  love  God." — 
Think  not  that  God  intends  evil  by  causing  your  family  so 
often  lately  to  pass  under  the  rod,  and  making  dark,  heavy 
clouds  gather  above  you.  Try,  cbWrfully,  to  wait  on  Him, 
Mid  all  will  be  well.  He  will  give  honey  in  the  wilderness 
and  springs  in  the  desert ;  the  pillar  of  fire  and  of  cloud 
will  not  be  taken  away,  nor  the  manna  for  daily  need  be 
removed,  till  you  have  passed  the  narrow  stream  that  sep- 
arates from  the  rest  that  femaineth  for  the  people  of  God. 
Never  fear,  therefore;  never  lose  courage  nor  hope. 

As  to  those  friends  before  whom  you  icel  that  you  have 
denied  your  Lord,  it  seems  to  me    that   if,  indeed,  on-  of 


29 

them  intended  siivply  to  prove  you  \rfth  bard  questions, 
silence  was  the  best  answer  that  could  have,  been  given. 
To  have  said  anything  would  have  been  to  '•  cast  pearls  be- 
fore swine."  There  is  a  tune  to  keep  silenee  as  well  as  a 
time  to  spoak.  As  to  the  other— as  to  both  indeed — con- 
sider what  the  Lord  Je^us  says —He  who  knows  what  re- 
ception pra3'ers  meet  with  on  high—'1  Therefore  I  say  unto 
you,  what  things  soever  ye  desire,  when  ye  pray,  believe 
that  yt»  receive  them,  and  ye  shall  have  them."  Mark  1 1  : 
24.  To  expect  nothing,  is  to  take  away  the  life  of  prayer. 
May  you  yet  experience  "  the  -powes  of  the  Holy  Ghost/' 
and  may  God  direct  you  into  the  knowledge  of  Him  and  en- 
lighten }ou  more  and  more  ! 

As  ever,  yours,  C. 


so 
I  WILL  COME  TO-  JESUS. 


r 


Just  as  I  am,  without  one  pica 
But  that  thy  blood  was  shed  for  me,     . 
And  that  thou  bidbt  Die  come  to  tht*$, 
O -Lamb  of  God;  1  come! 

Just  as  I  am,  and  w-iti>>g  not 
To  rid  my  noul  of  one  darfc;  blot — 
^o  thee  whose  Mood  can  cleanse  each  epol^ 
OvLauib  of  God,  I  come -I 

Just,  as  I  am,  poor,  wretched,  blind — 
Sight,  riches,   healing  of  the  miud, 
Yes,  all  I  need,  in  thee  to  find, 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  cornel 

Just  as  I  am — though  tossed  about 
With  many  a  conflict,  many  a  doubt. 
Fightings  witbin  and  fears  without, 
0  Lamb  of  God,  I  ccmc! 

Just  as  I  am,  thou  wilt/cceivc, 

Wilt  welcome,  pardon.,  clearn'e,  relieve,     . 

Because  thy  promise  I  believe  : 

0  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am:  thy  love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down  ) 
Now  to  be  thine,  yea,  thine  alone, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 


